


Shockingly Evil

by avengerslut



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Forced, Forced Orgasm, Lemon, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 16:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20312602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengerslut/pseuds/avengerslut
Summary: Steve Rogers decides to take a new course of action in punishing the criminals he catches.Especially the pretty ones.





	Shockingly Evil

**Author's Note:**

> Graphic rape/non con, violence, and dark themes. 
> 
> Reader is an enhanced individual with the power to absorb electricity and computer data, and can use said electricity as a weapon.

It's nearly 2AM. I slip through the shadows cast by the dingy strip mall in the pale moonlight, staying completely concealed in the darkness. I pass endless tourist shops advertising overpriced t-shirts and seashell-studded bracelets. The smell of rotting seafood wafts from behind Joe's Sand Bar and I turn my head to the right instead, inhaling the fresh, salty ocean air.

It's a cool night for the touristy city, with a refreshing decrease in the humidity that's thick enough to chew in the afternoons. The strip mall is deserted. It's a perfect night to retrieve my work. A hooded sweatshirt conceals my hair which is tied neatly behind my head. The hood is black and matches my joggers and shoes. They're not loose, but baggy enough to hide all of the curves.I don't need anyone to recognize any of my features, especially my femininity, if I'm caught. But I never am.

A few hundred feet ahead of me, a fading blue sign welcomes me to the Sand Dollar Internet Café. With a deep breath, I slip inside. It's unlocked, per usual. I'd been observing the manager for a few days now: he's the lazy type. I'm not surprised when the door opens without any resistance.

My hand snaps upward to silence the small bell above the threshold that threatens to tinkle with my entrance. Slowly, I close the door. The café is empty, obviously. Large PC computers line two parallel rows of desks like soldiers at the ready, their screens flat and black. I quietly count off the computers as I walk down the row.

"1...2...3...4..." I make my way halfway down before pausing. "Here you are, lucky number 7."

The PC isn't unlike all the rest, its screen black and silent. But this is where, just a few days ago, I bought a lukewarm coffee and sat down to upload multiple gigabytes of valuable corporate trade secrets worth millions of dollars. The café welcomes little to no regular patrons, and was the perfect place to store the information I needed until my buyer was prepared to purchase. After all, it was easier to have more space cleared up inside me, rather than carrying around heavy megabytes of data with me everywhere I went.

I press a black button and the PC hums to life. I can already feel the hum spread with a buzz, warm and soothing, through my hands and into my fingertips.

"Hey baby," I murmur to myself and the glassy screen, tapping into a few deeply hidden files to open the one I need. "You been keeping this nice and safe for me?"

I locate the discreet file and smile. Just where I left it. "You've done a good job. I'll take this off your hands now."

With another deep breath, I place my fingertips on the screen. The PC almost seems to purr in response as the screen warms immediately to my touch. The intense heat of the glass is almost painful, but I grit my teeth and flatten my palms against it. My hands begin to shake slightly against the screen as the humming noise gets louder. Suddenly, there's a sound like a small _pop_ followed by a sucking noise, and my skin against the screen takes on a faint bluish glow.

Wisps of blue escape the computer and are sucked into my body through my hands. Fleeting images of words and pictures in the file flash behind my eyelids, but I don't pay them much attention. Instead, I watch while the storage level slowly inches up on the computer as I drain information from it. The feeling is exhilarating. I've never taken my power for granted, and it never fails to amaze me.

The nerves in my arms periodically flash a pale blue with the vast intake of information. Megabytes of storage open by the second as I absorb data, and my vision becomes tinged with a blue haze. I'm almost there. A few more seconds, and I'll be full of secrets and out of this godforsaken strip mall to make a good million or so dollars.

Suddenly a sharp _ting_ sounds from the front of the café. It snaps me out of my concentration, and the blue around my vision fades as my upload slows to a halt. My blood nearly runs cold. I've been surveilling this café for days now, and no one has ever entered after 9PM.

_You've prepared for this_ I think to myself, ignoring the flood of adrenaline that urges me to sprint. The glow around my fingers has already dissipated, so I pretend to continue tapping on the keyboard in front of me for a few seconds before clearing my throat.

"Hey, I'm closing up. Sorry," I call nonchalantly, my eyes glued to the screen in front of me. There's no response, and with a moment's hesitation I turn to the doorway. Amongst other reasons, I'm thankful for the darkness of the café at this moment because it hides my quickly paling face. A few feet from me stand the two largest silhouettes of men I've seen in my life. The moonlight drips in behind their bodies, casting long shadows that nearly touch my toes. From what I can tell, they're incredibly built, with broad shoulders and muscled arms. They stand tall and completely still, and don't make any motion to leave.

I swallow and hope they can't see. "Guys. We're closed. I need you to go."

The man on the right finally speaks with a small step forward, and I instinctively take a step back. "You don't work here. I doubt you're even a local."

His voice is knowing and familiar, so familiar. I press my lips together and open my palms slightly. "Are you cops? I'm not doing anything illegal. I just needed internet access."

Suddenly, the misty clouds in front of the moon flit away and silvery light pours through the open door, giving the interior a shadowy illumination. When my eyes adjust from the bright fluorescent light of the screen, I can feel my face completely drain of color. I don't recognize the man on the left with long brown hair and a sharp jaw, but the man on the right is unmistakable. If not the blond hair and familiar face, the disc-shaped shield at his side is a dead giveaway. It's Steve Rogers. Captain America.

The famous patriotic suit is gone, replaced by only a tight gray T-shirt and black combat pants fastened with a thick tactical belt. A scruff darkens the skin on his cheeks and chin. His eyes are the classic baby blue indeed, but slightly hard. Whatever I've done so far, he's deemed it bad enough to be worthy of his intervention. That's not good. A chill runs down my spine and I attempt to hold back the shudder that follows.

The brunette raises an eyebrow. "So you broke in?"

"The door was unlocked."

"That's still breaking in."

"I beg to differ."

Steve stops our tense banter with a raised hand. "Enough."

He steps forward again, the shield firm at his side. "Come on," he says in a voice that's almost kind. "We both know what you're doing here."

Fuck. I need to take a new route if I want to get out of this goddamn café. I'm not missing out on a million dollars, not even for the righteous face of the Avengers. I've been planning an expensive vacation to Ibiza for weeks now. So I let my chin drop, my shoulder slump a little, and take on a defeated look.

"I-I don't know what else to do," I whisper, staring back at the glowing screen. "There's nothing else for me to do."

I wonder if they've stopped me for breaking into the café or for selling corporate secrets. Or for my powers. Either way, they're obviously not letting me go off scot-free.

I turn and plop down into a chair with a melancholy sigh. The darkness does a good job of concealing my face and my hand, which slithers down to a thick wire underneath the desk. I grip it tightly and ignore the buzz that fills my palm and trickles to my chest when I begin to absorb the energy and electricity passing through it. I shift my leg to hide the slight glow that tinges my hand.

Steve's face softens slightly and he walks toward me. "You're selling information that can hurt people and destroy the economy. You don't understand the gravity of what you're doing. The damage you're causing."

I almost scoff. Of course I know the gravity of what I'm doing. That's why I keep such an incredibly low profile, not revealing any personal information to even my most trusted clients. I'll go off the grid periodically and create a whole new persona, complete with fresh clientele and a new location. I know exactly what I'm doing.

The man behind Steve remains silent, his finger on the trigger of a large gun as he eyes me suspiciously. The moonlight glimmers on his left arm, and I do a double take when I realize it's a prosthetic. Not just a prosthetic, but a completely metal twin of the right from shoulder to fingertips. We glance distrustfully at each other over Steve's shoulder. I hope he can't make out too many features of my face. My business might still be salvageable if I can get out of here without a good facial description.

"I know," I murmur. "I just... I don't have anything else." I tighten my hold on the wire, willing more energy into my body. It buzzes in my stomach hot and prickly. Steve gives me a well-trained smile. "I know what that feels like. But we can't keep letting you do this."

I assume he's unaware of my powers and nod in a resigned manner. "There's, uh, a few flash drives that I used, over there. I tossed them before you guys came in." I point underneath a desk to his right. Little does he know that I can hold more data than a thousand flash drives.

My hand grips the wire hard. _Come on, come on._

Steve nods and crouches to look under the desk. "This one?"

"Yeah, uh, they might be kind of far under there. I threw them pretty... hard," my voice cracks slightly on the last word, but he doesn't notice. A current of power just flooded through me. I'm nearly vibrating with energy now, and can see my skin begin to take on a slight blue tinge of glow.

"Steve..." the brunette suddenly pipes up in a warning tone. I look up and see his dark eyes latched on me. I stare back at him with a blank face and hard eyes. Now that Steve isn't blocking his view, he sees my hand on the wire. The barrel of his gun twitches.

"Hold on, Bucky," the captain grunts, but "Bucky" speaks again. "Steve... STEVE!"

Blue energy and electricity flickers through my veins suddenly, and I arch my back in pain. It's almost too much. "STEVE! SHE'S ENHANCED!" Bucky shouts.

Everything subsequent seems to happen slow motion: Bucky raises the barrel of the gun to point at my face, Steve rolls out from under the desk in confusion to grab me, and I will everything buzzing and burning within me to my hands. With a surprisingly calm exhale that echoes in my ears, I release a shockwave of blue electricity that blows both men backward. The snap as it explodes is deafening.

Blazing blue light illuminates every inch of the café for a second before it vanishes. A few computer screens are shattered and the carpet is blackened and smoldering. Energy flickers in my fingertips as I rise shakily before stumbling to the door. Just as I'm inches from the handle, a swooshing noise sounds from behind me and something hard slams into the back of my knees, causing them to buckle. I fall to the ground with a grunt. My hands shake as I push myself up and again attempt toward the door.

"Nice try, sweetheart." 

A metal arm wraps around my waist and pulls me gracelessly against a hard body, pinning my arms in. I can feel the barrel of a gun being pressed into my temple. Warm breath hits my ear as Bucky whispers into it. "Even think about shocking me again, and I'll blow your brains out."

By the tone in his voice, I can tell he's not joking. I go rigid in his arms and watch as Steve blearily stands, retrieving his shield from where it lay after knocking me to my knees. When he looks up, the baby blues have gone dark.

"You know what, I'm so fucking sick of playing the 'righteous' bit with assholes like you," he hisses, stalking toward me. I swallow as he stands with his face inches from mine, the perfect skin blemished by a small cut on his cheekbone. "I've been saying it’s about time we stop trying to reason with you pieces of shit and start breaking a few bones to get the point across. Making a few examples." He smiles coldly. There's no trace of the kindly demeanor from before.

"Where's the information you were just retrieving? Disks? Flash drives?" His eyes search mine as I clench my jaw and stare right back at him. Suddenly, he lurches forward and wraps a hand around my throat. "_Tell me_," he demands in a deadly voice.

I pale and betray myself when I look down to where my fingertips are still glowing hazily. Bucky matches my gaze and stares at my fingers. "Steve... I think _she's_ storing the information."

Steve releases my throat and stares at me suspiciously. "You can hold computer data?"

I avoid his eyes and nod just barely. Steve seems surprised. "So you did know what you were doing. You probably could see everything you sold too, huh?" He shakes his head. "Shittier than we thought."

"I had to make a living somehow," I snap defensively.

"Shut up," Bucky mutters, squeezing me harshly with the metal limb. It nearly squeezes all of the air out of my lungs. I shut up.

"What do we do now, Steve?" Bucky's voice asks from behind me. "We can't just take the information away from her if it's _in_ her."

Steve nods thoughtfully. "You're right. We'll have her upload the information onto an old SHIELD drive, then we'll figure out what to do with her." 

Bucky pushes me back to a PC that isn't broken, and Steve slips a charcoal-colored drive into its side. I can feel Bucky's nonmetal fingers dig into my neck when he shoves me in front of the screen. "Put it back. All of it."

With a dry swallow I comply, pressing my fingertips weakly to the screen and uploading the information back into the computer. His hand doesn't leave my neck until a few minutes later when I finish, sweat beading on my forehead. "Now can you let me go?" I mutter flatly, knowing the answer.

Steve leans forward and scrolls through some of the files as Bucky shoots me a humorless smile. "I don't think so."

"Damn," Steve murmurs from beside me. "There's some real shit in here." He looks at me with mild amusement. "You really are dirty, aren't you? You knew about these and you just sell them?"

I bite my cheek and shrug. "I'm just the middleman trying to make a buck."

He scoffs. "Yeah. Blameless, right?" He moves in close to my face. "Until _you_ get hurt."

I flinch away from him, and he smirks before standing to face Bucky. "We don't have much to do with this," he remarks, wagging the flash drive. "We let the techies have they're way with it but after that..." A thumb is thrust in my direction. "She'll so minimum time, maybe nothing. No repercussions."

"What are you saying, Steve?"

"I'm saying, maybe we should take matters into our own hands for once. Give a little justice where it's deserved, without having to do years of paperwork beforehand." A flesh finger trails up my neck and tilts my chin up to face the blonde super soldier. "And I think you need to learn a lesson."

I shake my head to rid myself of the feeling of his finger on my skin. He crouches until he's eye level with me. "Am I wrong? You've never been held accountable for anything you've done. But innocent people have paid."

I stare hard back at him. "Maybe I'm just good at what I do."

His eyes narrow and a large hand grips my chin suddenly, pulling my face toward his. I refuse to break eye contact as he cocks his head and studies me in a strange, silent manner. Just as suddenly he releases me with a bit of a shove and looks over to Bucky. "Take it into our own hands?"

Bucky's been gazing at us with lips parted in faint interest, but they curve into a wicked grin that's under the spotty moonlight. "That's how we did it in Siberia," he drawls. His gun clatters where he drops it casually on a desk and wanders toward me. "But you're a lot prettier than the Russian girls I had to break."

I hold back a shudder. I'm sure that what they're implying is merely an intimidation tactic. Either way, it's succeeded in making me extremely uncomfortable. My current stash of data isn't worth this.

"Okay, okay, I get it. I'm sorry. I'll come with you." I raise my hands in defeat and expect for them to back off. Instead, Steve's hand grips my jaw again and pulls my face upward to look at him. "I told you, sweetheart. It's time we take justice into our own hands."

Anger flares hot through me. I can deal with getting caught, but this bullshit ploy they're pulling is annoying and to be honest, kind of scary. This is my livelihood and I'm sick of them messing around with it. So I grab Steve's wrist with one hand and slap him with the other, enjoying the sharp crack of my palm on his cheek. "Do not fucking touch me again."

Steve pauses before looking back down at me. When he does, his eyes are dark and flashing. There's a moment of pregnant silence before he suddenly snatches my waist and throws me into a wall at least twenty feet away. The breath is knocked out of my lungs upon impact, and I wheeze on the ground for a moment. Blood trickles warm under my ear from where I must have hit my head. I wipe it off and glare at Bucky, who approaches me with a crooked grin.

"What, you're gonna beat me up?" I snap, brushing my bloody fingers off on my joggers. "Because I can fucking take it. You're not the first who thought they could beat the shitty out of me."

Bucky kneels and grabs a handful of my hair, yanking my head back. "We're not gonna beat you unless you're bad," he says. "We're gonna break you."

I try to hit him as I did Steve, but he catches my wrist and twists it until I yelp in pain. "Ah ah ah," he chastises. "If you hurt us, we'll hurt you back. And you hurt Steve over here."

I barely noticed Steve approaching us before his large hand connects with my cheek in a painful slap, mimicking the one I just gave him. My head snaps to the side. My face feels like it's being pricked with a thousand tiny needles. When I raise my fingertips to it, the skin is hot to the touch.

"You understand now?" Bucky asks with a lurking smirk.

My heart is pounding now, and my breathing is shallow. If this is a bluff, they're taking it pretty fucking far. I force myself to meet Bucky's eyes. "Fine. I understand. So stop fucking with me and take me to the feds." 

My voice sounds calmer than I feel. I don't remember my mouth being this dry a moment ago.

Steve reaches a hand down into my line of vision. I slowly take it and allow him to lug me to my feet, fearing I'll suffer another slap if I don't. He tilts his head toward one of the chairs. "Sit."

I sit. Maybe if I lose the attitude and follow orders they'll grow bored of their little game and just take me into custody. I'm very aware of Bucky circling behind me and keep my hands in my lap. _Stay calm. Don't lash out._

"Let's see what we've got here," Steve murmurs, squatting until he's eye level with me. He reaches out and pushes back my hood. I grit my teeth but remain motionless, earning a pleased smile. Steve watches me closely as he slowly, slowly pulls my hair out of its ponytail. His gaze is almost challenging me. _React and see what happens._

I sit still as he tosses my hairtie to the floor, sit still when he lets my hair fall through his fingers. 

His hand floats to my neck and lazily strokes downward. I sit still.

His thumb brushes my bottom lip.

I snap forward to slam my forehead against his. He curses and stumbles back, but Bucky's immediately got me shoved to the ground with a knee in my back. "Wrong move. He could have been gentle."

"Fuck you."

Bucky's knee digs painfully into my spine. "Want a hand?" he asks Steve.

There's a pause. "No. This one's mine."

Bucky releases me and walks a few steps over to pick up his heavy gun again. "I'll man the outside. Saw a few teens straggling along a mile or so back."

He ignores my wide eyes and exits the café. The bell above the door tingles after him, and soon his shadow in the threshold is long gone. Even though he was just as menacing as Steve, I feel even less safe now that he's gone. He acted somewhat put together, while it's Captain America who seems kind of unhinged.

Before I can blink Steve has a fistful of my hoodie collar in each hand and yanks me to my feet. Without much difficulty he tears it down the middle. When he forces my back to arch toward him to peel it off my shoulders, he leans forward and literally scrapes his teeth down my chin. I gasp and kick at him, but he dodges it with a grin.

A chill breezes over my exposed stomach and shoulders. I should have worn something other than a sports bra underneath. Steve tosses my tattered hoodie to the side and his hands are immediately at my bare waist. A ragged exhale leaves his lips. It's repulsive. I snap.

"Stop!" I scream, shoving at his chest. "Get the fuck off me!"

"Shut up," Steve hisses. "You play dirty, we play dirty back." His right hand falls to his calf where he withdraws a wickedly sharp hunting knife. The blade is just under a foot long, and the tip now hovers an inch from my throat. I stop screaming.

"I thought you stuck to the shield," I mutter. The good ol' Cap never went on the offensive with a weapon this violent. The shield was never solely meant to kill or maim. This is.

He flashes me a cold smirk. "Let's call it an upgrade."

His other hand grabs my arm. The knife tip never moves over two inches from my skin as I follow him on trembling legs to the bar in the back where people can get headphones and crappy snacks.

He releases me and gestures to the bar. "Sit."

I ignore the command and stare at him. "And if I don't?"

"Then I'll make you," he replies simply. When I don't move, he does- and with intense speed. His hands grab my hips and shove me roughly onto my ass atop bar. In my surprise I act instinctively and lash out with a solid punch to his jaw. He responds almost immediately by shoving my back down painfully against the counter. His face is an inch from mine. "You'll find that I like a struggle," he hisses.

The quivering knife tip suddenly plunges down and slices a jagged cut down from my collarbone to the top of my breast. Blood immediately pools at the wound as hot pain erupts like fire. I bite back a scream- it's shallow, but hurts like hell.

Steve's head lowers and I can feel blood draining from my face when he drags his tongue up my bloody skin. He licks my skin clean and doesn't hesitate before moving up to press a hard kiss to my lips. I can taste the coppery flavor of my own blood on his lips and nearly vomit. 

Unhinged was an understatement. He's out of his mind.

Steve pulls away from me, his lips and nose stained scarlet. His blue eyes flick down to my cut. "Next time, it'll be my fucking name."

Tears burn in my eyes. I had a chance with an angry man. Not an unstable one. "You're insane."

"No," he says slowly, evenly. "I'm your worst fucking nightmare."

His hand grabs my throat and holds my head down as he pulls my joggers off. My thrashing legs have little to no effect on him as he grins with bloody teeth. He literally rips my panties off my skin next. A hand immediately delves between my legs and rubs against my folds before rising to his nose. He inhales hard and his eyelids flutter like he's an addict who just got his fix. "Fuck, that's good."

My skin erupts in nervous goosebumps and I cower away from him. "Don't touch me again, you FUCKING psycho!" I scream angrily. A tear finally drips onto my cheek and I brush it away quickly. This isn't a bluff. This was never a bluff. How could I have been so stupid?

Steve grins down at me. "Oh, I'm gonna be doing a lot more than just touching."

He squeezes my neck hard before releasing me for a moment to peel off his gray shirt. It's darkened with sweat. I choke for air and tentatively touch my throat. It's sore- there'll be a bruise tomorrow. _If you even see tomorrow_ my mind whispers menacingly.

Not an option.

The Captain tosses his shirt to the ground and begins unbuckling the thick black tactical belt. There's a desk with a PC atop it a few feet behind him. If I can just get some juice...

It takes some effort, but I hoist myself up into a sitting position. Steve turns to me with an arched eyebrow and an arm extended to shove my chest back down onto the surface of the bar, but I duck his lunge and slip onto the ground. Adrenaline floods my body as I scramble for a nearby wire. I just barely snatch it before Steve has a hold of my ankles and is yanking me backward. I grit my teeth and squeeze the wire hard, absorbing as much power as I can in the limited time I have. Steve growls and grabs my hips instead. _Perfect_.

I drop my left hand down and shock his hand with a small burst of electricity. He yells in pain and releases me. I quickly turn to shove a palm in his bare chest and he stumbles backward with a sharp crackling noise and the smell of ozone.

Even with the delay, I barely make it a few feet to the door before I'm crushed to the ground by Steve's hard body. He wastes no time pulling me upward and slamming me back down against the bar. His fingers grapple at the back of my sports bra before he tears it off. His hands roughly grab at my breasts as his hard body molds against mine. "I told you, I like a struggle," he hisses in my ear.

His right hand grabs the back of my neck and holds my face flat against the surface of the bar. I hear the rush of fabric and shudder when I realize what's about to happen. I throw a few fruitless kicks behind me, but Steve just chuckles. I can hear him spit onto his hand obscenely and am reduced to humiliating whimpers. "Please, please don't do this. Please! I'll do anything, please-"

Steve cuts me off. "What you can do is you can shut the hell up and take me like a good girl." And then I feel the tip of him at my entrance for barely a second before he plunges deep inside me. My groan of pain joins his deep rumble of pleasure. He's so fucking big, it feels like he's going to split me in half. My arms shake on the surface of the bar.

"Ohhhh, fuck," Steve moans when he bottoms out. He pauses and both hands slide down to grip my hips. I barely feel it. My body's still struggling to accept him.

"You're kinda wet, huh?" He chuckles again. "Fucking whore." One of his hands slaps my ass, hard, before gripping my hip again to anchor him. He pulls out a few inches before pushing hard back in. Each movement pulls a deep moan from his throat. Every few seconds one of his hands will slip under me and grope my breasts. The feeling of his skin on mine is disgusting.

"I don't deserve this," I mumble from my place against the bar. A finger trails up and down my spine once. "Maybe not. But how can I resist when there's finally a pretty little girl on our crime radar?"

He thrusts into me again. "So pretty. And so tight." His fingernails dig into my hips as he ruts into me steadily. I barely hear his groans now. My mind is teeming. _Finally a pretty little girl on our crime radar._

"Y-you targeted me."

Steve grunts and slaps my ass again. The sting flares hot and throbbing under my skin. "Well duh. I can't exactly fuck a terrorist force." A hand rubs my lower back as he withdraws fully before slamming back into me. "And look at you, taking my cock like such a good girl. Such a good girl."

Fury. That's all I feel.

I push myself up on the bar, but a hand grabs the back of my neck and shoves my face back down. I resort to kicking at his legs as I scream at him. "All of the fucking crime in the world, and you target me so you can get off?" I reach back to claw at him. "You're fucking sick! And you're a fucking fake!"

I catch a piece of skin on his arm to rake my nails over. He growls and grabs a fistful of my hair, yanking my body against his. His chest is slick with sweat. "Shut your mouth. You're still the fucking criminal here."

"Better than being a fake," I hiss back. Not entirely true, but if it's what gets under his skin. "You don't deserve that shield. You're just a horny coward who looks for a quick fuck instead of going after the real threats. _Coward_," I spit.

Steve slams me back down onto the bar and starts fucking into me at a frenzied pace. It hurts, and he knows it does. A hand grabs my hair again and forces my head up as he moans loudly between hisses of "_fucking slut_".

Suddenly he releases my hair and I feel his hand move underneath me to my clit. The other keeps my chest pressed firmly against the bar. Steve leans forward and I can feel sweat from his face drip onto my back. "Talk all the shit you want. You love this. You love being owned like this. You're gonna come for me, because you love getting fucked by me." His fingers rub fast circles over my wet bundle of nerves. "_Whore_," he hisses.

I close my eyes and imagine something, anything other than his fingers on my clit and the feeling of him inside me. But he speeds up his thrusts and I can feel tension building in my core. Despite the sheen of sweat that's formed on my body, I shiver at the sensation. I don't want to come for him. 

Steve's thrusts become sloppy, but it's too late. A few more and the tension snaps in my core, my traitorous body quivering against the bar as pleasure pulses within me. Steve releases a breathless "_I knew it_" before he comes undone with a few more thrusts, his mouth latching onto my shoulder where he bites down hard. He doesn't bother to pull out, instead cumming deep inside me. He makes sure his teeth break my skin before pulling himself back up and sighing in content.

I'm pushed up to the back edge of the bar now, breathing heavily as I try to grip the bar top for support. I don’t want to get up. I can’t face him.

My fingers curl under the edge of the wooden slab, and that's when I feel it. A wire running underneath the bar. I weakly brush my hand against it. It's live.

Steve pants for a few more moments before peeling himself off of me. I remain on the bar, grasping the wire, absorbing more electricity inside me than I ever have in my life. Once my fingertips glow a faint blue, I turn slightly, Steve is facing away from me, pulling his pants up from his ankles. _He will pay._

Without hesitation, I lurch off the table and press both palms to his temples. He doesn't get a word out before I shock his brain, and he falls.

_He will pay_.

I silently pull on my joggers and the torn remains of my hoodie. Adrenaline burns in my veins, my mind hazy with unbridled fury. Steve is dragged to sit upright against one of the desks. His head lolls awkwardly to the side when I release him. _He will pay_.

I allow myself another minute to recharge from a PC wire before slowly opening the door to the café. Bucky is only a few feet to the left of the entrance, facing the road. When the small bell tinkles above me, he turns. "How'd it g-"

I stride up to him and catch him mid-turn, palms at his temples, electricity shocking his head. His gun clatters loudly when he falls. _He will pay._

Some of his long hair is singed, and the stench of it mixes with the smell of ozone to create a beautifully curious odor that matches the curious newfound rage that boils within me. I've never felt like this before.

Bucky is dragged inside and propped up next to Steve. I sit across from them, my legs folded neatly Indian-style. In each hand, I grip a wire. 

I imagine what Steve will say when he wakes for the umpteenth time from shock-induced unconsciousness, with watery eyes and frizzled hair. 

_You're insane_, he'll whisper fearfully.

_No_, I'll respond. _I'm your worst fucking nightmare._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave kudos or comment if you enjoyed :)


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